She stopped struggling immediately. Wings were a delicate thing, and easily ripped, which we both knew. I held her up.
“Do I know you?”
The ghostly woman let out a snarl. “I will not be ignored!” A crack rent the air, and a sting shot through my shoulder, slashing my T-shirt and opening a slice in the skin underneath it.
I yelped and tossed the fairy into the air.
The fairy squeaked as she fought to get her wings going, but I turned from her to stare at the ghost, who now held a long bull whip in her hand.
I pointed a finger at her and snapped one word, putting some serious bite into it. “Sit!” Whatever power I had over the dead seemed to ripple between us and the woman sat, her eyes wide and her mouth open in a big O. Take that, you nasty piece of work.
The fairy chose that moment to take another literal swing at me.
The tip of the sword cut across my cheek, opening up a thin line, and I stumbled back so I didn’t lose an eyeball. I wanted to smash the little ducker, but the fae were with Crash and I didn’t want to hurt his people.
“I’m part fae, you dumbass!” I yelled as the fairy danced and dodged around me.
“Not enough fae for our king!” she yelled back. “You are mud, you are nothing! You stole him from our queen and now—” She screeched and went flying backward as a second fairy joined us.
Kinkly swept between us, her own weapon raised. “Scarlet, being a bitch as usual?”
I did a double take when I saw what she was packing. A freaking battle axe? I mean, sure, it was miniature, but who would’ve thought Kinkly had an axe just sitting around?
Scarlet shot upward and out through an open window. Kinkly looked at me. “I’m going to chase her a bit, you good?”
I nodded. “Anyone else coming?”
“Penny.”
Good enough.
Kinkly shot upward and out the window. I turned back to face the ghost, who was now sitting in a crumpled pile of her skirts on the floor. Skirts now, no longer a dressing gown?
Her eyes locked on mine. “I own these souls, you won’t take them from me.”
Run, run, run, run.
“A married couple died in New Orleans thirty years ago, do you remember them? They would have died the same way as my ex-husband,” I said, hoping I was right.
She smiled again, although there wasn’t a bit of friendliness to it. “The tonton macoutes have killed four times in my home, and the bloodshed has been glorious each time.”
Four times.
Mom and Dad, Gran, Alan.
Four deaths all tied to me.
I stared at her, and a nudge of intuition prodded at me. “You killed people you enslaved, didn’t you?”
The door burst open behind me and I turned to see Penny step in, her eyes flashing. “Bree, Alan said you might be in trouble.”
I looked past her to the sidewalk where Alan stood, his back to the house. “That was quick.”
“I Ubered.” She smiled at me.
Alan had come back at least. I’d give him that. “Yeah, I wasn’t sure. Not as bad as the demon last week, but not good either.”
The ghost gave a low hiss. “You will fear me!”
I rolled my eyes. “You might have been dangerous in life, but not now.” I snapped my fingers and pulled her to her feet. Her eyes widened further and her fingers wrapped tighter around the handle of the bullwhip.
Penny’s eyes had locked on the ghost sitting on the floor. “That bitch killed and tortured a lot of people.”
So I’d guessed correctly. Feeling another nudge of intuition, I stalked forward and plucked the whip out of her fingers. “Without this, I’m guessing the others here can’t be hurt by you?”
The ghost screeched at me, her face contorting like putty, melting and reforming over her bones until her appearance was as ugly as her soul.
From all around us, other ghosts crept forward. The woman with the whip had been given power over them for no reason other than their dusky skin, but they were no longer powerless against her. I had her damn whip.
And they knew it.
The former enslaved converged on their tormentor, and the mass of bodies went down in a tidal wave of screeching and limbs, sliding through the floor and disappearing in a matter of seconds.
Silence seemed to echo through the big house.
Penny looked at me. “How did you take her whip? When the house burned down, they never found it.”